Sound Wave
by SanguineHearts
Summary: Shizuo has something that Izaya wants. Shizuo says that Izaya can't have it. How far will Izaya go to get what he wants? Sci-fi, futuristic AU. I hope to keep these characters in character. Features Shizaya, and Psychex?. Rating increase, just to be safe.
1. Prologue

**Pre A/N: READ THIS FIRST!**

_**IF YOU ARE NOT OK WITH HUMAN-LIKE BEINGS BEING ENSLAVED, ARE NOT OK WITH THEM BEING USED FOR INTIMACY, ARE NOT OK WITH MALE-MALE RELATIONSHIPS, OR ARE NOT OK WITH FORMS OF SELF-CEST, THEN DO! NOT! READ!**_

That is all. :]

* * *

><p>The blonde placed his chair in front of a capsule, the one he favored most. Sitting down, he took a pack of cigarettes and plucked one from it. He took a long drag of it after he lit it up, holding his breath to let the sweet addiction relax him. Only after he felt he could talk, did he exhale.<p>

"In this world, there are three kinds – three classes – of people," he began, "and the second class barely exists. Most people start out in the third class; they're poor, they're scum. Hell, some of them aren't even people… The first class keeps them below their floating city because they are whatever they are. And the First class can do that because they're so rich, they basically _do_ own this place…" The man paused to take another drag, going through his memories of his own hardships as he describes his world. "But one day – one day someone from the first class can call you up. Some say it's from the goodness of their hearts, but others call it debauchery." At this moment, he leans back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling, reaching a hand towards it. "They send people to come pick you from your little makeshift house in the slums and bring you up to the magnificent floating city in the sky that you look at and dream of going to every night. They send people to come retrieve you so you can be some rich fuck's slave," his hand falls limply to his side, and he doesn't have the guts to look back to the capsule, "I don't care what people call your lifestyle, you're a _slave_. And you'll do whatever your master – whoever bought you – tells and wants you to do. You're someone who lives better than the third class, but are stepped on and not recognized by the first class…"

Mocha eyes gaze once again at the being floating in a glass capsule of clear, sea foam-green liquid. "But you're different," he mumbles. "You won't get sent away. I won't let you. Even if it means you live here. You're too precious to disappear in to the mass of faceless people. You'll live a better life than me." With that he stood up again, finishing off the last of his cigarette. He pushed a button on a small pad of numbers directly to the right of the capsule and a large metal shade began to cover the glass. Giving a glance to the security camera in a high corner of the room, the blond male dragged his chair back to his desk. To anyone watching, he would be talking to himself. But in reality; the man talks to and treats all his creations as if they were his own children.


	2. 1: Chambermaid

Izaya shrugged his favorite fur coat on around his shoulders, a knowing smirk poised on his face. Out of habit, he touched the closed screen of his laptop, making sure it was locked and safe. He knew he needn't go through these pesky security rituals. But he just needed to be sure… The dark haired man patted the pockets of his favorite black jeans, then felt the pockets of his jacket to double check that he had everything he needed with him. He had most everything, but still, something was missing.

Moving out from behind his desk, Izaya walked over to and opened the double French doors that led to his living room. He looked for it on the large, luxurious couch that was aligned parallel to the mounted plasma TV. He looked for it in the chairs on either side of a small table near the window. Surely it wouldn't be under any tables or stands. Even with the contrasting dark red, brown and black color scheme, he couldn't find that white-clad boy anywhere. Glancing at the clock, Izaya knew he didn't have time for a game of hide-and-seek.

"Psyche!" He called. Almost immediately the thumping sound of footsteps could be heard from above. The pale man watched as a near-replica of him appeared at the top of the stairs, then hurriedly clambered down them. Izaya kneeled down after Psyche fell at his feet and looked up at him with large magenta eyes. "Did you forget about our little field trip today?"

The other shook his head. "No, Master Izaya," he replied obediently.

"Good." Izaya paused to give Psyche a tender kiss on the lips and grasp his hand to pull the sitting boy to his feet. "Then let's go see Dr. Shizuo, shall we?" With that, he led Psyche across the living room and out the front door.

Outside, there was a limo parked at the bottom of the steps. An old chauffer, dressed in black, opened the back door for Izaya and his slave to get inside, and shut it after they did so.

Izaya waited for the chauffer to climb in to the driver seat before he spoke. "To the Heiwajima Tower," he commanded. The chauffer responded by making eye contact in the rear view mirror and slightly bowing his head before starting off to their destination. Psyche – who was sitting on his knees on the floor of the limo – shuffled closer to his master's feet and the other man decided to thread his fingers through Psyche's hair affectionately, being careful not to disturb the place of the headphones upon his slave's head.

Izaya Orihara – obviously – lived in the Floating City, and was among the revered first class. However, contrary to popular belief, he did not have countless servants at his disposal. Lord knows he has the money, but he didn't particularly like the Slave System that the city had set up. Izaya was a man of information and specifics, he knew exactly the way he wanted things. And while there were countless people living in the slums below, there was always something off. Using the Slave System was a gamble; you could never get _exactly_ what you were looking for. You could tell them what you wanted, but there was always _something_ off.

However, that was a before. About six months ago, some genius from the slums finally decided to show his true colors and came up to the city to present his way of creating makeshift humans. Something with designing DNA and putting cells through pseudo-fertilization and giving it the right nutrients and such that it needs to grow until it eventually becomes something like a human. Everyone argues if what is created is actually a human or not. Science says it has the same genetic makeup, but conservatives say that it doesn't have a "soul" and because it starts out with a "blank mind," you can teach it to have animalistic behaviors; have a lack of morals, essentially. And these beings could be custom created. In order to stay in the Floating City, the inventor of all this proposed that the beings be sold off into the Slave class and workforce. Of course, whoever decides the law of the land had no problem with that.

_No matter how far in to the future humans advance, Puritan values will never be shaken, will they?_ Izaya thought. He looked at the back of Psyche's head once more – which was now timidly resting on his knee. He could care less about Puritan values; with this method of making servants, he could get exactly what he wants.

"Why don't you come up here to sit, Psyche?" Izaya offered.

The younger-looking clone looked behind him at the leather seat that his master was patting in a gesture of offering. His eyes lit up and a slight smile spread on his face. He knew exactly what his master was looking for, and Psyche loved to please his master. It's what he lived for. As his smile grew wider, he enthusiastically leapt up on to the seat, landing on his knees.

Izaya placed his hands on the small of his slave's back, guiding him to sit on his lap. He was amused at the ecstatic look on Psyche's face, and grinned in response. The other's smaller, skilled hands worked at the belt buckle on Izaya's pants, quickly gaining entry way in to the under layers of his clothes. The crimson eyed man softly moaned, then used a ringed hand to lift his slave's face towards him so he could look in to his pretty magenta eyes. "We have a long drive, OK?" He whispered on his slave's soft lips before drawing them to his own.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I updated so quick because I've had this backed up for some time now, and I wanted you to get some info on the world and the characters before I actually got in to plot. Sadly, you're going to have to wait until I write chapter two before I post it.

However, updates are EARNED.

Tell me what you think, if I should even continue this or not. If something is confusing, please let me know and I'll try to clarify.

Story song: Sound Wave by Rin Kagamine {the story isn't supposed to have a Vocaloid feel, but I dreamed of this story most when I listened to this song}. Chapter song: Chambermaid by Emilie Autumn {Psyche reminded me of a chambermaid, and the song is stuck in my head}.


	3. 2: Monochrome Kiss

Shizuo sat behind his desk, resting his head in his hands. An apathetic look was stuck on his face as he blankly stared at the door at the other end of the gallery. He idly dropped his favorite pen on its point, then loosely slid his fingers down it to pick it up and repeat the same process many times until his guest arrived.

Despite the lack of thought in his expression, it seemed like every little thing was aggravating the blonde as he waited. His _favorite_ person in the world paid him to dress up nicely because the person enjoyed classier, neater things. The closest thing Shizuo had to "nice" was a uniform akin to a bartender outfit. The garment was a gift that his younger brother spent all of his earnings on so he could present himself before The Council to propose his invention. A sharp pain shot through the tall male's chest and he knew that he had to stop following this train of thought.

So he thought on how stiff and tight the uniform was. And how he blames that annoying man for causing his discomfort. And how if he doesn't show up in the next 30 seconds, Shizuo would throw his desk at his visitor as soon as he walked in the door. Annoyed, Shizuo grumbled and collapsed his arms on top of his head on the desk.

How frustrating all of this was. While Izaya Orihara was his least favorite client, he was the blonde's highest paying client. Izaya was also his first client to request something custom-made. The conceited prick requested that the Att Vara look just like him physically, save for making him have pink eyes. He dressed him in an outfit that was all white except for pink fur on the coat and the shirt and a pink belt. He named the Att Vara Psyche, as if he just picked a word that began like that and cut the rest of the word off, like he only liked that part of it.

Speak of the devil, the asshole just sauntered in now. Shizuo stared and didn't know what to do. He knew that the dark haired man's mouth was moving, probably saying something egotistical that would only piss him off more, but listening wasn't a priority now. The blonde watched the brighter shadow of Izaya timidly trail behind him, looking wide-eyed at all the displayed capsules of Tilveras. The sitting man watched as Psyche's gaze fell upon the one shuttered capsule and he stared at it, mouth slightly agape. Shizuo shifted his eyes to the left to take in Izaya's long, dark lashes bordering amused ruby eyes and a smirk that seemed to never leave his face.

At this point, Shizuo didn't know if he was lying to himself or not. While he hated Izaya for degrading his beautiful creation, there was just something so… _Smooth_ about Izaya. Something cunning, something sly. And with cunning and sly comes mysterious. He didn't know if all information brokers had these qualities, or if it was just Izaya. Either way, he didn't care, it's what made up the slim, dark figure in front of him, who just decided to hoist himself up on to Shizuo's desk, facing out towards the gallery so the creator could see the nice curvature to his back, leading down to his – Shizuo needed to stop thinking again. But he just couldn't help it. The blonde hoped that he would snap again. He hoped that the tempest sitting in front of him with his legs so femininely crossed would tease him until he got so frustrated that he would forcefully bend the smaller man over his desk, rip his pants off, pin his scrawny arms above his head so he's helpless and – _GOD, STOP IT!_ Shizuo thought.

The blonde bit down on a knuckle and he tried to look anywhere but in front of him. He thought if he looked up, he would seem as if he's pondering something. No matter how many times he attempted, the image of Izaya persistently reappeared in his head. The raven's words were now nothing more than muffled background noise.

"_Oh Shizu-chan! S-Shizu-chan!"_ He heard Izaya moaning in his head. That god-forsaken name is what Shizuo despised most, but when his nickname was whispered in a needy tone, one that said "I'm so desperate for a release, please make me do it, force me to it," Shizuo would be lying if he said he didn't get off on it.

"_Shizu-chan plleeaaaase! Oh fu- Shizu-chan! Shizu-_chan. Shizu-chan!"

A pale hand slammed down on the Cherokee desk, inches from the taller man. He looked up to find Izaya angrily glaring at him from over his shoulder. Shizuo was suddenly aware of the heat rising to his face as he realized that Izaya was _actually_ calling his name for his attention.

"Do you think you can make your eyes _rocket_ through your skull or something? What the hell is wrong with you, looking up like that? It's called _visualization_, sweetheart, you can't actually see what you're thinking…"

The blonde cleared his throat and got ready to move, when he noticed how much tighter his pants had gotten. This was a problem. Part of him wanted to stay where he was and give Izaya a taste of his own medicine. However when he looked down Psyche sitting peacefully on his knees, gazing downwards with his headphones covering his ears, Shizuo reminded himself that there was work that needed to be done. "I need to go take him to the lab now." He mumbled. He waited until the dark haired male turned his head and signaled to Psyche to get up and lead the Att Vara to the lab next door.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I apologize for such a short chapter. I've determined that this story might be a bit jumpy/chunky. I have also decided that it might be a bit much if I go through so many emotions in one long chapter, so I'm splitting it up in to a few.

It may seem like it has no plot as of now, but keep the summary in mind and pay attention to what Psyche does...

Also, pay no mind to the terms Att Vara and Tilvera for now, they won't be explained in the next chapter, but in the chapter after that {chapter 4}. Am I the only one that's annoyed by the fact that, no matter what you put for the chapter title, Fan Fiction automatically numbers it in the drop-down menu? So much for prologues...

Song: Monochrome Kiss from the Kuroshitsuji OST {I thought the title fit well, maybe it's just me...}


	4. 3: Megawacko 21

**P-A/N:** This is a week later than I wanted it to be... The School Abyss needs to stop sucking me in. I'm so glad to be done. D:

* * *

><p>As soon as the double metal doors split open from the center, allowing Shizuo and Psyche entrance, the blonde rushed in, pulling his creation behind him, then snatched a large lab coat from the rack by the door. He let go of Psyche to quickly button it up. <em>This'll hide me until it dies down…<em> he thought. Taking a deep breath, Shizuo calmed himself before leading the Izaya-like boy to the large metal table in the middle of the room.

A man with choppy brown hair, wearing a lab coat identical to Shizuo's pushed a steel cart over to the table. He picked up and handed the taller man a thin electronic, pushing up his black thick-rimmed glasses after he did so. "This is the last of our hypodermic needles, sir." He stated. His voice was smooth and kind, the various higher notes he reached when he said his vowels gave off the hint of trustworthiness.

The blonde male took the electronic device from the brown haired man. "I'll order more." He said quietly then proceeded to tap the device a few times in different spots to pull up a record of Psyche's doctor visits. "Psyche, I have someone that I want you to meet today." He watched the boy snap his head up at the mention of his name and stop moving his feet back and forth. Shizuo gestured to the man with goggles standing next to him. "This is Shinra Kishitana. He will be my assistant when you come visit me."

"Hello Psyche, it's nice to meet you!" Shinra said then held out his hand so the pink eyed boy could take it in a handshake.

Psyche hesitated, staring at it for a moment before timidly placing his hand in Shinra's and smiling slightly, making eye contact for a split second before looking back down at his shoes. "Hello Master Shinra, I'm pleased to meet you."

"You don't need to call him 'Master,' Psyche…" Shizuo said, sounding a little disappointed as he rejected a pair of latex gloves that his assistant offered him.

"Master Izaya told Psyche to." Psyche stated, as if that answer was the answer to all of his actions and problems. Shizuo supposed it was. And it wasn't his place to corrupt this boy's orders. He surely didn't want to lose his best client.

"All right…" _If you say so._ "We're going to start your check-up now." The tall man checked the device one last time before handing it back to Shinra, making a mental note that the last time he entered in all these numbers was when Psyche was to be given away. He wasn't tainted by that man waiting in the gallery; he didn't know anything but this metal table and the things in front of him. Stepping towards his patient, Shizuo unbuttoned and gently pushed the white jacket off of the boy. He slowed his movements when he watched Psyche look away and bite his lip. Timidly, the blonde curled his fingers under the hem of the thin pink shirt, keeping an eye on his patient the whole time. When he began to lift the shirt, Psyche blushed. Shizuo couldn't tell if the raven haired boy blushed out of embarrassment, shame, or if he actually liked what the taller man was doing. His assistant noticed, also, for he was watching his boss intently. "Is… There something I should know about?"

There were a lot of things Shizuo knew about Psyche and Izaya's relationship, but he never expected this.

"Psyche likes it when he gets affection…" The white-clad boy mumbled, still not making eye contact and blushing.

There were a lot of things that Shizuo wanted to say at that point. _You mean to tell me he's not giving anything _back_!_ He thought. The blonde glanced at his colleague, suddenly unsure of how to go about this. He didn't exactly want to be blunt and say "so Izaya doesn't give you an orgasm, too?" because he didn't want to frighten the poor boy, and he knew he would sound angry if he went along those lines. The light haired male settled for leading his patient on. "Get affection..?"

Psyche subtly nodded in reply. "It's Psyche's job to please Master Izaya. Psyche doesn't ask for anything in return. But when Master Izaya does decide to give Psyche affection…" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "It feels good…"

Shizuo sighed, looking at the closed door that they came through moments ago. He knew that the raven in the other room did sexual things often with his clone, but he had no idea that he treated it like it was just an object. His beautiful, virginal creation being defiled was infuriating and frustrating. He wanted to go in the next room and send that little egotistical fuck through the wall; beat him until he was crying and bloody. The blonde clenched his fists in attempt to quell his anger. Despite all that he wanted to do, he had to stay here and work. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all. He heard Shinra mumble something to Psyche, but didn't pay attention to what it was. Silently, Shizuo began to work on the patient's pink belt after he directed his assistant to fetch a robe.

"Is… Master Shizuo going to give Psyche affection..?" Psyche asked, catching Shizuo's attention from what he was working on.

The dressed up male stared up at the boy's innocent, curious expression. The moment Shinra returned, Shizuo lifted himself to his feet, mumbling that he couldn't go through with the check-up on Psyche. He threw off and hung up his lab coat before he stormed out the door. Shizuo decided that he couldn't concentrate until he had a little talk with Izaya.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Again, I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Would you feel better if I posted another drabble? I know the ending feels rushed, and honestly? I probably could've done a better job on it, but I just wanted this chapter out.

I think from here, I need to do some story planning. I'm pretty sure I've said this before, but I have certain things and scenes I want to put in here, I'm just not sure how to link them, and that's a problem. Thus, planning.

Remember, updates are EARNED through reviews. I'd really like some introspective on how I've molded Psyche. I know he's not much of a "character" now, but he will develop more, I just want to know if this is a good start. Those of you looking for Shinra and Kasuka... They're on their way, I promise. And thanks to everyone who has R&R'd thus far. I appreciate it. :]


	5. 4: The Tempest

The tall, blonde male mumbled orders to Shinra to take over as he turned to quickly unbutton his lab coat, hang it up and leave the room. It all happened to fast, that Shizuo's actions left his poor assistant shocked and befuddled.

Shizuo rounded the corner in to his office and the gallery. Despite his anger, he took note of that rotten little informer speed-walking away from of the capsules (which one, he couldn't tell). They met at Shizuo's desk; Izaya wearing an "innocent" smile, the creator glowering at him.

"What did you do?" The taller man demanded angrily.

Izaya kept his expression. "I'm not a mind-reader, Shizu-chan…." He said.

"The way you treat him! It's turned him in to…" The blonde struggled to find words. He didn't want to say exactly what he thought. "A… A _slave_! What you do, you use him like he's some sort of toy!" In the midst of all this ranting, Shizuo threw his hands in the air and stomped over to his desk. "Have you no respect! Don't you care…?" Once he flopped into the chair behind his workspace, he looked at the raven expectantly, only to find him fixated on his nails. As if his creation and the way that bastard treats it isn't important. Shizuo could feel a growl rising in his throat.

Before Shizuo mauled him out of blind rage, Izaya spoke. "You're trying to say that I don't make him cum…" A bored tone laced his words. He turned his hand over and moved it away from his face so he could examine his nails from afar.

The taller man's breath caught in his throat and he stared at Izaya wide-eyed. The words he was walking on eggshells around, the other man could say so casually. He didn't want to think like that about his creation, and it threw him off. "Y-yes, well-"

"And besides, don't they learn everything when they're young? A Tilvera, or something…?" The crimson-eyed man chose this moment to sneak a peek at Shizuo out of the corner of his eye. Izaya wanted to judge the other man's reaction at being accused of teaching Psyche devious things. Shizuo's reaction wasn't what he expected, but he still kept his composure; a knowing, mischievous smirk splayed on his face.

"N-no! Tilvera's are when they're in the capsules and are still being developed. They can't learn anything then!" The blonde tried to sound angry, but he figured that his face probably betrayed him. He wasn't about to go off and spout everything he knew, though. Truth was, they _could_ learn things while still in the capsule, by talking to them so they can hear you. Or, at least, that's what he was testing.

There was no way that Shizuo could've taught Psyche to be like that! There was no behavioral correlation. He never said anything to Izaya, but in truth, the taller male to Psyche out of the capsule while in his Tilvera stage. Really early, too. In human time, Psyche would've been about the size of a toddler. Looking back at it, Shizuo identifies it as a weakness, but he couldn't help but explore how his first custom creation was coming out.

The creator would watch TV with Psyche, watch his little face light up with a smile when he showed him the bouncing squares of light that went along with the music on a handheld music device. Shizuo would feed him, read to him, all innocent, fatherly things that couldn't possibly taint Psyche in a way that vulgar.

Besides….

Shizuo felt his heart sink as he remembered not having an assistant, and facing no other choice but to put a chemically loaded needle at the base of Psyche's head. He remembers his crea – no, his son's – tiny, tight grip on the sleeve of his coat. Remembers Psyche's eyes widen in the same way as something pure and innocent like an animal's eyes dilate when they realize something dire too late and then begin to struggle. Remembers the tears that fell from those pain-filled, confused, magenta eyes. But most of all, he remembers the choked "Daddy!" that came from his little mouth.

It lasted about two minutes, but it felt like the longest day of the year to Shizuo. Two minutes and Psyche was back to a lifeless doll. He wouldn't remember anything when he woke up again in an official Att Vara stage. After it was all said and done, after Psyche was in the capsule, the blonde tore his laboratory apart, frustrated and upset. He used his dreaded "super strength" that kept him below the city (that he thought he had learned to control in order to stay above), which only further broke him down. Lying in a heap in the corner of his destroyed lab, he decided that he needed to hire an assistant.

Izaya couldn't know about any of that. He already questions why Psyche came out four inches short. Shizuo makes up the excuse that it was a miscalculation with the calcium supplements.

"Anyway… They can only learn things from the first person they communicate with when they're an Att Vara, when they're out of the capsule." The taller man half-heartedly continued.

The dark-haired man sighed. "Ah, well. I guess I can't blame this one on you…" He said as he bent over to put his elbows on Shizuo's desk, resting his chin in his hands. "It's nothing to get worked up about, though."

Shizuo swore he could feel the strings of his sanity and patience with this man slowly unraveling. "Nothing to get worked up about!" He slowly repeated through gritted teeth. "How can I _not _get upset over this!"Having you use him for sex was not myintention."

Izaya rolled his eyes at the other man. "Come now, Shizu-chan, he's not even yours. And none of this was your intention to begin with…"

"Not mine? I _made_ him!" Shizuo wasn't going to argue the other point the raven made, because it was true. He wished the means of his wealth were different, he wished a lot of things were different.

The paler man looked Shizuo right in the eye to enforce his point because the idiot was _obviously_ not getting it. "Yeah? And you _sold_ him. You gave away any rights you had to him, along with any rights he had to himself. To me. Therefore, I can do what I want with him."

The informant's words shocked the blonde in to silence. He knew that what he said was true. But to be reminded of it really hurt. Especially with Psyche's situation. The way Izaya said it made it sound so inhumane and Shizuo feel so helpless. He didn't know what to say, what _could_ he say in retaliation? After all, it was true.

The air between the two was so tense that that for a moment, neither of them acknowledged the laboratory door being opened and Shinra and Psyche coming out. Neither of them moved until Psyche ran over to them. Shizuo watched in silence as Izaya stood up straight , and his petite clone rushed over to him. Psyche latched on to the red-eyed man's arm like a lost, needy child, then stared at Shizuo, his face half hidden in the fur on Izaya's jacket.

"The things that you create and love, aren't yours to keep." Izaya said. "You take away their humanity by selling them off. Your final signature has the power to make beings, objects. I guess you're magical in more than one way…" he paused to look down at Psyche, who was looking back up at him questioningly, then looked at Shinra. "Mail me his status report." He said before tugging on Psyche to follow him in turning and leaving.

Shizuo and his brunette assistant sat quietly for quite some time.

"Sir..?" Shinra questioned timidly as he stepped closer.

The blonde couldn't answer. His mind was a tempest of thoughts, and he couldn't pick which one to force out of his mouth. There was one thing he knew for sure; he wanted Psyche back. Shizuo heard his helper tell him that he would leave him be. The minute the lab door closed and Shinra was gone, he collapsed his arms and head on his desk, shoulders shaking with sobs.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Aaah wow, this took forever. I did all my story planning, though! OwOd I had half of this written before I got SUPER busy with getting a job and enrolling in college and such.

Aaaannnyway... I'm mean to Shizuo. XD But I almost cried writing this because I had to put myself in Shizuo's shoes.

This chapter was mainly for the explanation of the terms Tilvera {when the creation is in the capsule, being developed} and Att Vara {when the creation can be removed from the capsule and is functional} as well as explain Shizuo's deal with Psyche, which will further explain his feeling towards the creation still in the capsule {I hope}.

I also didn't feel like proofreading. So any mistakes that you find, please let me know and I shall fix them.


	6. 5: Love Me Dead

"There are certain people you just shouldn't get involved with." Shizuo said before he even sat down in the office chair he rolled all the way to his favorite capsule. "If they _look _ like they're bad, then they probably are. If they don't… Eh. Then they probably are." The mocha-eyed man lit up a cigarette, took a drag, then let it out in a sigh. He stared at the floor, in defeat. he still felt like crap over what Izaya had told him a few weeks ago. They haven't spoken to each other in that span of time. Even the very elongated, chunky online conversations between them hadn't started up.

_"You gave away any rights you had to him, along with any rights he had to himself."_

Shizuo never thought of his method of making a living in that light. He was just so concentrated on using what he had thought of and discovered to make things right for him and his brother. The only thoughts that filled his head at the time were helping the people below the city, while appeasing the snobbish nature of the people in the city. He looked back up at his clone submerged in transparent, green liquid. "I know that's contradictory logic but… I just don't know what to tell you. You really can't trust anyone. Not completely, anyway." Another sigh escaped the blonde's lips. He seemed to do it so much lately, that he was practically making his own Language of Sighs. " I mean, I thought Izaya was a good person. He _really_ helped me out when starting this whole thing. He was one of the main sources of funds that I got to start this whole… _mess_. I - I don't know who to blame here. And I'm sorry if you're clueless as to what's going on, I would _love_ to keep you informed - but honestly - I hope you didn't hear our fight; I don't want you to think that I'd ever do that to you. Just. Hear me out, OK?" Shizuo paused to chuckle to himself. Like the Tilvera could do anything but. "I'm not sure if it's _his _fault for acting that way, and treating Psyche like that. Or if it's mine, for making Psyche and trusting Izaya…"

He paused once more in an attempt to think. Instead, he was distracted by some feeling. Even though the Tilvera wasn't ready for "birthing," the blonde could still _feel _something, a presence of sorts. Similar to "feeling" someone in a room, or "feeling" eyes on your back (except without the discomfort). His new son was alive and listening. "Probably Izaya's," Shizuo continued, "he's a dick, anyway."

The sporadic tone of the telephone brought his attention away from the capsule. The brown eyed male begrudgingly rose from his chair, and practically dragged his feet back to his desk at the end of the gallery. Ever since he and Izaya's argument, he hadn't been in the mood for customers. All he could think about was how they treated their Att Varas, what they did with them. It took all that he had in him to not blow up at them when they called.

Still, even though Shizuo was quite angry at him, he couldn't help but want to hear Izaya's voice on the other end. It really blows to have feelings for someone you hate.

The blonde pressed a button on his desk to connect the call while taking the cancer stick that was almost burned to the filter out of his mouth, then spoke in a monotone. "Heiwajima Tower, Heiwajima Shizuo speaking."

"Hello, hello Shizu-chaaann~!" Replied a familiar sing-song voice.

Shizuo's breath caught in his throat. His wish came true, but now what was he going to do with it? He didn't have time to think about it, for Izaya continued to speak.

"I have a matter I would like to discuss with you. Please make room in your schedule later today, say arouuunnnd 4 o'clock? I would like to make another purchase from you. Not so special this time. Or is it? Later~!" And with that, the raven hung up.

Shizuo grumbled and hung his head. He didn't know whether to consider this a good or a bad thing. While every purchase helps, having an Att Vara purchased by Izaya is like giving an infant to a murderer. It's just not right. The brown eyed man pressed a few buttons on a small device atop his desk while he mumbled to himself. "He just wants to talk, right?" Repeated beeps from the device signaled that the date and time were set in his schedule. "Maybe I can talk him out of it?" He tossed his cigarette in to the short, gray trashcan near his desk before he made his way back down the gallery to retrieve his chair. "Yeah right," he scoffed. He stopped in front of the displayed capsule he was previously viewing, then laid a hand on the control panel beside it. He silently cursed that cunning raven for breaking the feeling of presence he had. He wanted to stay and talk to his beloved creation some more, but 4 in the afternoon was quickly approaching. "I wonder who he wants?" Shizuo whispered to himself before he punched in the code to close the capsule.

Izaya arrived right on time, with Psyche trailing behind him, like usual. Shizuo - while frustrated by the fact that he had to rush his last two appointments to make this one - sat waiting in his desk chair, wearing the usual requested bartender getup. As the ruby eyed man strode towards him, a whirlpool of emotions surfed through the blonde male's head. _Look at the way Psyche cowers at Izaya's feet, like a lost puppy. He could be so much more! But damn… Are those tighter pants on Izaya? Who the hell does he think he is… He's such an asshole. Why did he go for a regular black short-sleeved t-shirt this time? It's too cold out for that. AAAUUGH! WHO CARES IF HE GETS HYPOTHERMIA AND DIES! HE'S A DOUCHE! AN ANUS FLAP! A HORNY PIMPLE! A-_

Shizuo's thoughts were cut short by the paler man hopping up to sit in his usual spot on the blonde's desk. His back, facing Shizuo, arched ever the slightest and his chin in the air. "Long time, no see. How have you been?" Izaya asked.

"I think it would be easier to _see _me if you turned and faced me."

Even with his very narrow view of the red eyed man's profile, he could still see Izaya frown. "Now, now, is that a way to greet customers? Especially one who is concerned about your well-being?"

"Whatever…" The sitting man turned his gaze away from his guest. He wanted to keep this short and simple; to get right to the point. He think Izaya knew how he felt, he hadn't messaged him at all. Out of the corner of his eye, Shizuo could see the darker-clad man turn his head slightly to glance over his shoulder at him.

"So about my second slave…" The raven prompted.

The brown eyed man winced. "Don't call them that."

"Fine, fine."

"Did you have one in mind? You said it wasn't going to be anything special, so I'm assuming I won't have to extract any DNA from you and create a custom one…"

Shizuo couldn't see it, but at that moment, Izaya grinned a grin that would make the Cheshire Cat jealous. "Yes, actually." He said as he pushed himself from his perch and started down the gallery. Psyche crawled along behind him. Knowing that the blonde was watching him, gaging where he would stop and announce which one he wanted, Izaya decided to mess with him a little by taking a leisurely stroll near the capsules.

Shizuo hated this torture. He was forced to watch the man he had such a love-hate relationship with (though it was more hate than love right now) waltz down the corridor with his beloved creation submissively on all fours behind him. He had already stopped at a few capsules, and the blonde hoped like hell Izaya wouldn't go much farther. His breath seemed to get shorter the closer the sanguine eyed man got to the little area that basically served as his sanctuary. He watched the sly fucker cross the width of the gallery a some more. Time seemed to slow down with the pale man's steps as he halted in front of _that_ capsule. As if being emotionally torn wasn't enough, the blonde now felt like he was being torn apart physically. "No…" he whispered. He felt like hurling. This couldn't be happening.

"This one!" Izaya exclaimed triumphantly.

"No!" Shizuo said, defiantly.

"No?" The raven turned to scowl and narrow his eyes at the other male. The glare quickly turned to a flash of a smile, which faded in to his trademark smirk. "I expected that. He's special to you." He continued while he strode back towards the caramel eyed man.

Psyche stayed behind, kneeling at the bottom of the display. He stared up at it like he had found salvation. While the clone had many questions, overall, he had the urge to break the capsuled being out of his confines of wires and nutrient-filled liquid. He wanted to talk to the other creation, interact with it. Psyche wanted to be like his master and his doctor. Despite his conscious reminding him of his master's wrath when he did something he wasn't supposed to do or made a mistake, the clone started to think of ways to release the creation. Psyche's focus changed at the snap of Izaya's fingers, his cue to catch up. He dropped back down to his knees once his master stopped in front of the desk once more.

"I will give you…" Izaya trailed off, but kept eye contact, "one million."

Shizuo stared at his desk, folding his hands in front of his face. He knew if he looked Izaya in the eye, he would break. The blond shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. No matter how much money that filthy rich bastard offered, there was no way he could give away his precious creation.

The corners of Izaya's mouth almost faltered in to a frown. Almost. "Five million."

"No."

The paler man glanced at the ceiling. A sickeningly sweet smile spread across his face, and he effortlessly made the look in his eyes soften, not seem so frustrated. He leaned over, propping himself up on an elbow, and snaked a hand between the other man's clasped grip. "Hey," he started in a lower tone, "don't be so upset, I _am_ willing to walk away from this deal." Shizuo gazed up at him from over the top of his, really unnecessary sunglasses. "Let me make one last offer to you." The sitting man clenched his hands, almost crushing the thin digits between them. Izaya had to grit his teeth before he could continue. "Just meet me at the Presidential Suite in the hotel section of your tower, OK?" Shizuo sighed heavily as the dark haired man removed his hand with a bit of difficulty. Izaya and an absent-minded Psyche turned to leave.

The mocha eyed man watched the door close after them. He knew he had more work to do, but his mind was glued to that one capsule that was _supposed_ to be personal. He tempted himself with the idea of saying "he was too busy," but because the shorter male didn't actually state what the offer was, he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious. Shizuo's phone beeped in his pocket, signaling a text message. He opened the orange electronic to see a message from Izaya.

"_Don't forget~! 3_" It read.

_So much for trying to get out of this…_ Shizuo thought. He slapped his phone shut before dropping it on his desk. He drummed his fingers as he thought. _He had better come up with some serious deal… It doesn't matter, I guess, I'm going to decline it. Would it be so bad if I could just _have_ Izaya? Then maybe he could stop making such ridiculous requests and I could keep an eye on how he treats who I create…_ The blond groaned as he stood up. _I wonder what Izaya thinks I would say "yes" to..? This is going to be fun…_ He lit up a cigarette as he moved towards his lab. "Nothing else to do but work until then."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sorry that this took me forever to update. I got lazy, to be honest. That, and I trashed 3-4 different beginnings. I know that the ending seemed rushed, but I wrote it at 3 a.m... {I know that's no excuse, shut up} I'll probably come back and re-do the ending for this chapter later.

The creative swearing generator is your friend.

I'll probably update one of my short collections before I complete another chapter for this. I have one, _Love Like Hot Chocolate_ waiting on my other laptop, I just have to edit it a bit. As always, concrit is welcome, if there's any mistakes please let me know. Be sure to check my profile for updates~!


End file.
